So, You Want to Murder the Jellicles?
by Puddycat
Summary: Possibly the most ridiculus ways of killing a Jellicle cat you are ever likey to read. Don't believe me? Take a look. 8 MISTOFFELEES' SECOND TURN! Once again, please read the note at the end.
1. Mistoffelees

This are the mostridiculus methods of killing a Jellicle cat I could think of, so I hope you get a giggle from them.

I love the Jellicles, I really do, but I just felt like killing them for some reason. It isn't mindless violence, though -it's very inventive and imaginative violence. Each chapter is a Jellicle getting killed in a different way.

Disclaimer - I don't own CATS. I do own the ways they die, though...

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**How to kill Magical Mr. Mistoffelees**

You see the small, sparkly tuxedo tom walk into the junkyard, apparently off daydreaming in his own world. He has done something to really annoy you, and you decide you want revenge.

You wait until he is asleep before creeping over to him. Magical cats wake up very slowly, and he sleeps right next to the floating tyre. How convenient for you.

You look around and see some nails and a cat-sized hammer. Living in a junkyard provides for all your day-to-day needs, no matter what you require. It is especially useful if you wish to kill somebody in a cruel and inventive way.

You pull him upright and over to the tyre, where you proceed to nail his front paws to it. He merely snores in response to the pain. When you are sure that he is firmly attached, and not about to get away, you use your incredible, Old D-like power to make the tyre float. Mistoffelees snores again, before swishing his tail in annoyance when his paws leave the ground – he is no longer in a comfortable sleeping position, and his shoulders are about to dislocate. Time for you to hide.

You dive behind an old television just as he opens his eyes. You see him look around, and you wince as you hear his shoulders pop out. Mistoffelees apparently doesn't notice, and keeps looking for whatever woke him up. That cat likes his beauty sleep.

You leave the junkyard to go and steal some things with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, before returning the next day. Mistoffelees is now dead. After removing the nails from his paws, you stash the body in the boot of the old Ford; it really wouldn't look good on your application to join the tribe if Munkustrap found out that you had killed the resident magician, now, would it?

Forty days pass, before you decide that you should move the body to give the boot a chance to air out before Jennyanydots hides in there during the next Jellicle Ball. Also, if anyone smelled it (and lets face it, being dead for forty days would give even the cleanest cat a slight 'eau du corpse') and checked it out, you would be done for within the tribe. Heaviside forbid, you might be expected to explain yourself to Old Deuteronomy!

As you enter the yard, you see a silver tabby spot you and make a beeline for you. You see the expression on his face that suggests immediately that he has been looking specifically for you. You pretend not to see him while you try and think up an explanation. He reaches you and you begin to panic slightly.

"Have you seen Mistoffelees?" he asks. You sigh with relief.

"No," you reply, doing your best to look innocent. "Why? Did you want him for something?"

"I just haven't seen him for ages, that's all."

He departs again, and you look around to make sure no-one is anywhere near the clearing. Convenience intervenes again, as most of the other cats are involved in planning the Ball and currently in a meeting, and those that aren't are decorating the entrance to the yard. You enter the clearing and walk over to the boot. You pause – the boot is open, and Mistoffelees isn't in there.

On your way back home, you wonder where he could have gone. He is dead, after all, so someone has to have found and moved his body. As you climb through the cat-flap, you pause – someone is already in the house, and they most definitely are not human. You peek around the door and almost die of shock. Mistoffelees is sitting quite comfortably on your favourite armchair, alive and well, and he seems to be waiting for you. Suspicious of a prank, you slowly move forwards into the room to get a better look. Unfortunately, he spots you.

"I've been waiting for you," he states, jumping down from the sofa.

"Hang on a minute," you say. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"You should know, you were the one who nailed my paws to the tyre. After all those tricks I did for you, as well," he says, sounding hurt.

"Yeah, well, you annoyed me."

"What did I do?"

"Breathed."

"Ah."

"…"

"…"

"You're doing it again."

"Sorry."

You sit in silence for about five minutes, before you get bored. You glance at Mistoffelees, who seems to be practically sitting on paws to keep himself still. You wonder why he isn't _quite_ sitting on them, and decide to ask him.

"Why aren't you sitting on your paws?" you ask.

"Mainly because I have holes through them big enough to stick my tongue through," he tells you.

"That might have something to do with it," you agree.

"And I just can't be bothered standing up to get them underneath me."

After another few minutes, you start getting bored again.

"Shall we play tag or something?" you ask.

Mistoffelees grins and you both go outside to play in the freshly cut grass. He stays with you for three days, before telling you he has to go somewhere.

"Where're you going?" you ask him.

"Back to my dad," he tells you.

"Where does he live?"

"Up there," Mistoffelees says, pointing to the sky. "He's the Everlasting Cat."

"I knew there was something odd about you. Maybe that's what annoyed me so much."

"Maybe. However, I need to die again before I can go."

"I'll help," you offer, such is your generosity. You go over to the drawers and reach behind, pulling out a cat-sized machine gun. "Will this do?"

"Should do."

You aim, fire, and watch Mistoffelees collapse on the ground, bleeding profusely.

"Err…Dad…?" Mistoffelees says to the sky. "Now would be good."

Nothing happens, and you are left, once again, with the corpse of the dead magician. You sigh, and decide that maybe Mistoffelees had the right idea about climbing on the roof. Dragging his body up there is hard work, but you feel relieved when you finally get the body up there; no-one can prove it was you.

When you get back down to the hall, you hear the humans talking by the fire, One of them stops talking suddenly, and you listen to what they are about to say.

"Can you hear purring?" they ask.

You know you aren't purring. However, you also know that Mistoffelees is about on the roof…

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You get a cookie if you can guess where I got the idea for that particular death from. Tell me what you thought, any constructive criticism is more than welcome.


	2. Macavity

I screwed about with the number of days and the actual events, but last chapter was based on the Crucifixtion :P You get half a cookie for Jesus Christ Superstar, though. And it's actually YOU killing the Jellicles! You cruel, cruel people... 

-Ahem- Back to this chapter, Macavity was practically screaming to be killed. I think he might be suicidal... Anyways, keepthe crazed Macavity fanqueens locked up so they can't try and kill me, please, 'cause it's time for the Hidden Paw to meet his doom! Mwahahaha...

Disclaimer - I don't own CATS. I do own the ways they die, though...

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**How to kill Macavity**

On one of your weekly trips to your employer's centre of operation, you see his two most loyal fanqueens ogling pictures of him. You personally don't know what they see in Macavity – as far as you're concerned, he's just a scruffy crime lord with an ego the size of his empire. As you watch the queens practically drooling over the pictures, you are struck with a sudden plan for killing him, a plan so great that you won't have a drop of his blood on you from his incredibly messy death. Unless, of course, you feel the need to get too close.

You approach the fanqueens slowly, knowing from personal experience just how violent they can get when their naughty fantasies of Macavity smothered in catnip are interrupted. They look up as you get closer, watching you with interest to see if you have finally decided to join the ranks of Macavity-fan, instead of Macavity-employee-with-a-grudge-against-your-employer. You ask if you can talk to one of them separately, and they glance at each other before the one you asked to talk to gets up and follows you around a corner.

"What do you want?" she asks, obviously annoyed, so you decide to make this quick.

"I just thought you should know that your 'friend' over there has been seeing Macavity behind your back," you tell the queen.

She looks over to the other cat and glares at her, not questioning what you have said. She turns and walks off in the opposite direction to her friend, also known as the direction that Macavity is in, and you take this golden opportunity. You walk over to the other cat and sit down beside her.

"What?" she snaps at you.

"I just thought you should know that your 'friend', you know, the one you were just talking to, has been seeing Macavity behind your back," you say.

Once again, the fanqueen doesn't bother to question how you 'know' that little piece of false information, or even whether or not it's true. She just goes storming off to find Macavity to confront him about it, and you follow to watch what happens.

You arrive mere seconds after the second cat, but already the two fanqueens are engaged in a vicious tug of war, both of them pulling one of Macavity's arms. Both queens are screaming insults at each other, and Macavity is screaming for them to let him go. The queens both pull harder, both equally determined to have the Hidden Paw for themselves.

A resounding "RRRIIIIPPPP!" echoes through the room and down the corridor, and the queens both fall backwards, both still clutching one of Macavity's arms each. They are each now in possession of one half of the Napoleon of Crime's tall, now even thinner body, and they are both now covered in what had used to be inside of him.

_Macavity's not there!_ He's actually over there. And there. And there…

Whistling a merry little tune, you skip happily back to the junkyard after checking you have no blood on you.

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After all, clean fur is a Jellicle must, otherwise Jennyanydots will come after you with a scrubbing brush. Thoughts on that? Anything I need to change?


	3. Tumblebrutus

Another short chapter, but have no fear - the next one's alot longer. I promise. Unless I upload a different death, in which case it might very well be another shorty...

Anyways, here's where things really start getting ridiculous.

Disclaimer: Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or T.S. Elliot?

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**How to kill Tumblebrutus**

You watch as the hyper ball of kitten-fluff that is Tumblebrutus bounces around the yard with his brother Pouncival. The fact that Tumble always seems happy and hyper gets on your nerves, although you can't quite put your paw on why. As you watch him, you come up with a cunning plan to get rid of him.

You wander as innocently as you can out to the stray's territory, being careful not to capture Munkustrap's attention because you just _know_ that he's going to ask where you're going. As soon as you get there, you just stand still – what you want will come to you.

Sure enough, about five seconds after you stop walking, a flea approaches you. You pull a container and lid out from somewhere (convenience – again), and catch it. It glares angrily at you, baring its tiny teeth, shaking its tiny fist and probably shouting obscenities that a cat of your age shouldn't be allowed to hear. Luckily, he's too small for him to make so much noise that you can make out any individual words. You know that whatever he's shouting, it's rude. Don't ask how, you just do.

Several more fleas come over to see what all the fuss is about, and you capture them as well, before returning to the yard with the container hidden somewhere. Where that somewhere is, you really don't want to know, even though you were the one that hid the container there in the first place and should, following real logic, know where it is. However, since this is a fanfic, and therefore not real, we'll just skip over that minor detail.

When you arrive back at the yard, you offer to walk Tumble home because you're _so_ kind and caring that you would do _anything_ to make sure that no strays hurt him on the way. Since you are a Jellicle, and have a human home, you're not in that category and so are free to do to him what you wish.

He invites you in for a while, because it's just started raining outside, and you follow him through the cat-flap. While he is preoccupied with meowing at his owner to put some food down, you pull out the container from its hiding place and release the fleas onto Tumble's back. Once all the fleas are safely on the kitten's back, you put the container back and follow his human into the pantry while Tumble starts scratching. His owner glances back, sees him scratching and rightly guesses what is wrong with him.

"Fleas," she mutters to herself. "But I haven't got any treatment."

You meow to get her attention, and when she looks down at you, you nudge the vacuum cleaner with your nose.

"I suppose that'll have to do," she sighs.

You move out of the way as she pulls it out, and stand with your paws on the "on" switch to help her out. She picks Tumble up so that she has him in one hand, the nozzle of the vacuum in the other, and signals for you to press the switch. You gladly oblige, only too happy to help a human in need, and watch Tumble squirm. The fleas refuse to come out of his fur, so you turn the suction up as far as it will go.

Tumble's tail gets stuck in the nozzle, and it is closely followed by his backside. His owner just assumes he want to get away from the noise, so she moves her hand to cover his ears. Her grip on Tumble lessens, and he suddenly disappears in a puff of fur into the nozzle. His owner watches in horror, and you watch in amusement, as a small lump moves quickly down the pipe.

You clean your paws and begin walking back to your own home, satisfied with the result.

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I swear, next chapter will be longer (I should know, I've already written it). Please tell me what you think of it (my mum's already told me what she thinks, but she's biased so it doesn't count). You'll get a cookie... or something... I'l shut up now...


	4. Jemima

I don't think the last two chapters weren't all that great, and really short,but hopefully this one's back on track.

Disclaimer - I don't own CATS, Disney, The Lion King or Star Wars, and this death was taken from Cadamine's Crazy Fanfic Plots.

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**How To Kill Jemima**

You see Mistoffelees walk through the gates to the junkyard. As you watch him greet various cats, you decide that you need to ask him a favour. You jump down from whatever you were sitting on (it's a junkyard; you could be sitting on an old box of matches for all I know) and walk over to the small magician. He spots you, reaches behind his back and pulls out a flower, handing it to you with a smile and a small bow (he's probably sucking up to youout of fear that you'll kill him again).

"Mistoffelees," you start, making your voice sound as sweet and innocent as possible. He gets immediately suspicious.

"What?" he asks.

"Hypothetically, if this cat I know wanted to be turned into a human for, say, a day or two, would you be able to do it?"

"Why?"

"No reason. But would you be able to do it?"

"Dunno."

"Why aren't you saying more than one word at a time?" you ask.

"Because the last few times we've met, you crucified me, locked me in the car for forty days, played tag for three days straight, shot me, and then dragged me up onto a roof I didn't know how to get off of," he replies. "For some strange reason, I don't trust you anymore."

"Why wouldn't you trust me?" you ask. "I've already done the worst I could have done to you."

"Really?" he asks hopefully.

"No. I'm just trying to get you to do this favour for me."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I killed you twice the last time, how come you're here now?"

"Because you wouldn't be able to kill the next cat without my help. I'm quite central to the plotline of this chapter."

"Stupid author," you mutter under your breath. "Now I have to wait before I can kill Misto again."

"What'd you say?" Mistoffelees asks.

"Oh, nothing. So, would you be able to turn a cat into a human?"

"Only for a day, at the most."

"That'll do me fine."

"I'll only do it on one condition – before you kill me again, give me a chance to say a cheesy death-line, they're so much fun to do."

"If you insist," you sigh, resigning yourself to a fate worse than death – listening to a death-line that will probably have been taken straight out of a human film (quite possibly one of the Star Wars films; they have the worst death-lines).

Mistoffelees holds out his paws, and a blue light glows around you. You are lifted in the air, and the air around you begins to sparkle. Beams of light shoot out from all four of your paws.

"Mistoffelees! Enough with the Disney already!"

"What's wrong with Disney?" Mistoffelees asks, dropping his paws to his sides and consequently dropping you to the ground. Obviously, as you're so feline and cat-like, you land on your paws. However, at this moment your paws feel remarkably like your backside…

"The characters all freak me out," you tell him.

"In what way do they 'freak you out'?"

"Everyone's always so happy, even if one of their parents died less then five minutes ago."

"What d'you mean?"

"Ever seen The Lion King?"

"Point taken. So if Disney's off-limits, what am I allowed to do?"

"Use smoke," you suggest. "They don't use smoke for magic in Disney movies."

Mistoffelees sets to work, closing his eyes and holding his paws out towards you. You see smoke. You smell it, as well. And feel it. Hang on a minute… smoke isn't hot…

"I DIDN'T MEAN SET MY TAIL ON FIRE!"

"Oh, whoops, silly me," Mistoffelees sniggers.

"You know, I can always gag you so you can't say your death-line and kill you this chapter instead of Jemima," you threaten.

That shuts him up. Without wasting anymore time (or smoke, or sparkles, or light), he turns you into a human and somehow manages to get you out of the clearing without the other Jellicles seeing. You turn to him to give him some more instructions.

"Get Jemima out here and stun her for me, would you?" you say, putting all the niceness you can muster into your voice. Mistoffelees gives you a look as if to say 'do it yourself'. "I'll gag you…"

In a flash of sparkles he's gone, and a few minutes later he appears on paw with Jemima in tow. He leads her up to you before tapping her on the shoulder. She collapses, the only things she is able to move are her eyes, which dart around as you pick up her completely floppy body. You thank Mistoffelees for his help, and put Jemima in the bag you somehow acquired. You examine the clothes you also gained from nowhere (Mistoffelees definitely didn't put you in them when he changed you, so they just appeared on you out of thin air, okay? Got that?), only to discover that the clothes look as though they came from one of the piles in the junkyard (which they probably did).

You look over to the junk pile next to you, and guess what? The very things you need are about two metres away from you. Smiling, you reach over and pick out four suction cups before turning back to the little magician.

"Attach these to her paws for me," you say.

"What if I don't want to?" Mistoffelees asks.

"Then I'll gag you. Anyways, how come I can still understand you if I'm human now?"

"Do I look like the author of this story?"

"No."

"Then why bother asking me? It's not like anyone ever tells me anything, anyway. Tugger didn't tell me I had to get Deuteronomy back at the Ball; I had to guess it for myself."

"Oh, quit whining. And stop pretending you didn't hear everyone saying how they had to find the old b-"

"You do know this is only rated K+ don't you?"

"Aw, crap, no-one ever lets me have any fun."

"Who's whining now?" Mistoffelees smirks. You glare at him.

"Hey, Author!" you yell.

"You rang?" asks a voice from the sky.

"No, I yelled."

"Ha, ha, very funny. What d'you want, anyway? I'm kind of in the middle of writing this chapter, so if you wouldn't mind making it quick…"

"I want to know… Why don't you just read back over what you've already written to find out what I want to know?"

"I can't be bothered. You should know by now how lazy I am."

"You know, you really should get more exercise, sitting in front of a computer all day cannot be healthy."

"Hey, typing is a very good workout for the fingers."

"Haven't you heard of Repetitive Strain Injury?"

"Yes, but I choose to ignore the warnings."

"Can we _please_ just kill Jemima sometime before the next Ball?" Mistoffelees cuts in.

"I'm with Twinkle-Toes," Author says.

"Don't call me 'Twinkle-Toes'. It's bad enough you made Plato and Tugger call me that in The Mop's Revenge, now everyone's going to catch on to it!" Mistoffelees complains.

"Okay. We'll just call you 'Midget' instead," you say.

"That's 'Magical Mr. Midget' to you, _human_," Mistoffelees hisses, his paws sparking.

"Oi!" Author yells. "No magic until I say so!"

"Is it really my fault that you just wrote that my paws spark?" Mistoffelees asks. "And you're the one that's writing this argument, we don't have any say in what we… y'know… say, so you could just stop this right here, right now."

…

…

…

…

…

"Happy?" Author asks.

…

…

…

"For the love of the Everlasting Cat!" Author sighs. "I'm going to have to type before you can speak again, aren't I?"

…

…

…

Author sighs to herself, and you hear the tap-tap of the big keyboard that's somewhere up in the sky.

"Finally!" you say.

"Now, where were you?" Author asks. "Oh yeah, Misto, attach the suction cups to Jemima's paws."

"Why don't you do it with your _incredible_ author-y powers?" Mistoffelees asks.

"Look up… Further… Bit more… That's it!"

"Oh, what, you're too lazy?"

"Yup. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to write myself out here and go for a hot chocolate."

Author disappears and Mistoffelees looks at you.

"I hope she gets an allergic reaction and all her fur falls out," he whispers.

"I heard that!" Author's voice yells.

"You wrote it, as well," Mistoffelees points out.

Suddenly, you feel you are no longer on a dodgy tangent that makes no sense, but you have a purpose in life, and that purpose is to-

"KILL JEMIMA!" you and Mistoffelees cheer at the same time, with terrifying manic grins on both of your faces.

A small squeak sounds from the bag, and you remember that's where you stuffed the little kitten. You reach in and pull her out. She looks like she wants to struggle, but since she can't move, you really can't tell, so _technically_ it's not your fault if you do something to hurt her because you won't know she doesn't like it if she can't move. That, and Author really _can't_ be bothered giving her freedom of movement, because that would involve describing her oh-so-valiant efforts to get away from you (the serial killer) and the big dramatic chase scene that always follows would take up too much valuable murder-time.

Mistoffelees uses his magic to stick the suction cups to her paws (he suddenly knows exactly how to use his magic. No more bolts of lightning that never happen for this kitty. Until Author decides that his magic could stop him getting killed, in which case he'll suddenly, without explanation, lose all ability he just gained).

"What're you going to do now?" Mistoffelees asks.

"Why don't you come and watch?" you offer.

Mistoffelees shrugs and you flag down a taxi. When one eventually stops (a couple of hours later, if you want a timescale), you sit in the back and stick Jemima to the window. The driver gives you a funny look, but says nothing, only speaking when he asks where you want to go. You name somewhere that has to be reached via a fast-moving and very busy road (and that has no shortcuts or other ways of getting there). He puts the car in gear and begins driving. Mistoffelees, having seen what taxi drivers can do, digs his claws into the upholstery on the seats. Unfortunately for the cat, the passenger and the driver, the seats in this taxi (for some unknown reason) have very expensive leather covered with a silk sheet that both get shredded by the magician's claws.

You flick his nose before winding the window down to feel the incredibly strong wind. The breeze is so strong in fact, that the suction cups start to detach from Jemima's paws. Mistoffelees watches as Jemima is suddenly blown out of the window. He jumps up onto the top of the seat and watches her short journey down the road before another car comes.

You can almost hear the squishing sound she makes.

You sink down in the seat so that the driver can't see you and signal to Mistoffelees to turn you back into a cat. He does so, and you both sit on the floor between the front and back seats until the taxi arrives at your destination. As the driver turns around for his fare, Mistoffelees opens the door and you both run as fast as your paws will let you, stopping only when, somehow, you make it back to the junkyard. You look around, and smile when you lay eyes on your next victim.

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Cruel, wasn't it?Critique is more than welcome, if you can think of any ways of making this better please tell me 'cause I want to try and improve it as much as possible.


	5. Rum Tum Tugger

It's okay, Sleeping Tiger, Munkustrap's safe. For now. He's refusing to die . Does this mean my head won't roll yet? I am rather attached to it, after all...

Anyways, since Munku won't let me (or you) kill him, I had to dig up another death to post, so I'm afraid it's another shorty. There'll be another short one after this, then hopefully Munku will have died and I can post that one, 'cause it looks to be a fair bit longer than this chapter and the next one.

Disclaimer - Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or T.S.Elliot?

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**How To Kill The Rum Tum Tugger**

You watch as the black and leopard print tom swaggers into the clearing, closely followed by his fanqueens. You turn your head away, sneering – you don't think it's healthy to be so obsessed over one cat (Tugger in particular) that you would squeal every time he swivels his hips.

You shake your head as he starts rotating his hips and the kittens start screaming. Seconds later, you're sitting up straight and finalising the plan in your mind to get rid of Tugger. How come you didn't think of this before?

Smiling to yourself, you approach Tugger just as he's shooing his fans away. He looks up and smirks, as though congratulating himself on gaining another member for his fan club, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Yes?" he purrs. You find you have to suppress a sudden urge to vomit.

"I was just wondering…" you begin, looking up at him through your eyelashes (yes, Jellicles have eyelashes. Stop trying to pick holes, it won't work.). "Lately, I've noticed how hot you look when you do that hip thing, and I want to know if you'd do it especially for me…."

"What, this?" he asks, demonstrating the infamous wiggle.

You somehow force out a kittenish giggle, causing him to smirk even more. He begins swivelling his hips round and round and round and round… You pretend to be hypnotised by them, and he does it increasingly faster the more you giggle. You can see his hips getting looser and looser the more times he rotates them, just as you had planned. Round, round, round, round, round, round – WEEEEEE!

You can practically hear his hips cheering with joy as they break free from the cat that forced them to swivel for so many years. Tugger watches them fly across the clearing with a wistful expression on his face – he liked those hips, they got him so much attention… He starts sharing happy hip-memories with you, until you tell him to look down. He does, and notices the gaping hole that is now occupying the place where his hips used to be.

"Ow," he whines, before collapsing from blood loss.

You hear a squelching sound, and turn to see where Tugger's hips just landed. You see Etcetera pulling them off of her face and looking at what just hit her. Her eyes widen in shock, then she squeals with happiness – she finally has Tugger's hips, the one thing in the world she wanted, but couldn't have until you tricked Tugger into detaching himself from them.

She bounds up to you with a huge grin plastered across her face, and wraps her arms around you, squeezing you as hard as she can in thanks for the present (and coating you with Tugger's blood in the process).

You manage to escape from her vice-like grip (which is way too strong for a kitten of her age and size. You start to suspect she may be on steroids), and wonder idly how you'll kill her. Murder, or talk someone else into doing it for you? You decide to rest for a while to reserve your terpsichorean powers, because the Jellicle Ball is soon and you want to be in full mass-murder mode for that most special of nights.

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Any critique is welcome, but I already know it's a really short chapter so you don't have to mention that. Absolutely anything that'll help make it better is good.


	6. Mass Murder

I thought the Munku one would be ready by now, but he still won't do what I want him to. Sorry for the lateness.

Disclaimer - I don't own CATS, and I got the idea for these deaths from an episode of Buffy.

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**How to Mass Murder in the Jellicle Tribe**

They're all so happy, and lively, and friendly… They can sing and dance perfectly, and they're all_ so damn slim_! You decide that something must be done about these Jellicles – they just cannot be allowed to live any longer, as they give even the most confident non-Jellicle feline (and human) more complexes than they have whiskers (not that many humans have whiskers, but you catch my drift, right?... Right?)

You look to your side and see that Etcetera is still tailing around after you. She's been doing that ever since you killed Tugger, and it's making you regret ever deciding that he had to go. If only Author would delete that last chapter…

**Don't get your hopes up. Killing Tugger was fun, I might have to do it again sometime…**

You wonder what must be going on in Author's mind for her to think that would be the ideal first date…

_You: Hey, Tugger, wanna go for a date?_

_Tugger: Sure, why not? After all, jailbait – err – I mean _kittens_, get on your nerves when you've been dating them for more than thirty minutes._

_Twelve seconds later._

_You: Hey, Tugger, wanna die?_

_Tugger: Sure, why not? We could really bond over an activity like that, you know._

_You: Uhh… yeah…_

_Tugger: It could be a very bonding experience for us both. Bondage!_

_You: Umm… eep?_

Your own imagination probably freaked you out enough just then, so Author doesn't continue that particular mental torture. Yet. Just give it some time…

You decide that you should probably hurry up and move the plot along at something resembling snail-pace, because it isn't moving at all yet. You look at Etcetera and remember how she used to squeal whenever Tugger was near, and how it used to hurt everyone's ears.

Somehow you manage to convince her to go and play with the other kittens, before setting off on your private little quest. You scale huge junk piles, and take a giant, dramatic, literal leap of faith off of the top of one… and land headfirst in a pile of rubbish from a restaurant. And, restaurant rubbish being what it is, landing in a pile of it isn't terribly pleasant. Disgusted, you climb out. Or, rather, you attempt to climb out. Evil, chicken-wielding noodles trip you up as you go, slowing both your progress and the plot even further.

When you eventually get out, three guesses what you come face-to-face with – exactly what you need to murder just about the whole tribe. You stare at it for a while, but you start to feel slightly awkward when it stares back at you, so you quickly drag it towards the main clearing.

You get there, and see the remaining Jellicles (a.k.a the ones you haven't killed in their own chapter yet) conveniently gathered around the big tyre where you crucified Mistoffelees.

"Etcetera," you call, immediately getting her, and the rest of the tribe's, attention.

"What?" she asks, skipping over to you (does that kitten ever walk anywhere? You wonder).

"I got you a present."

With a flourish even Mistoffelees couldn't match, you unfurl your weapon of choice and show it to her. She stares at it for a moment, before a huge scream, louder and of a higher pitch than ever before, erupts out from her. The other cats try, and fail, to cover their ears, and they all cringe back at the sound.

You just about manage to make out some words in the middle of Etcetera's scream. You think she's trying to say "Heaviside, he's sex on two legs!", but you're not entirely sure.

The Jellicles (apart from Etcetera, who is currently still screaming) all stiffen suddenly, and their arms (or front legs, depending on whether or not they're anthro to you) go rigid and fall to their sides. One by one, their heads explode.

You hide behind your chosen weapon, re-emerging just in time to see the stripy kitten turn blue and fall over because she hasn't taken a breath. She doesn't take a breath again.

"Yes!" you cheer.

Remembering what Etcetera screamed, you turn the weapon around to see what she found so irresistible. It's just a picture of Tugger…

Realising that there is something printed underneath the picture, you wipe away Jellicle head-goo to get a better look. It takes you a while to work it out, because you're a cat, and can't read all that well, but you eventually figure out what it says.

Looking up to the sky, you ask the Everlasting Cat: "What in Heaviside is so special about John Partridge?"

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Oh, yeah, I don't own him, either...


	7. Munkustrap

He's actually behaving himself for once! And you get a nice long chapter this time as well!

Disclaimer - Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or T.S. Elliot? Also, Roman still owns the Mop (but it now has a name - Moppy the Third!)

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**How To Kill Munkustrap**

You watch as Munkustrap goes about his Protector-y duties, checking up on everyone, making sure all the Jellicles are fine, and that everyone feels safe; the usual things that he does in fics when something is about to happen to him. Mistoffelees is watching him as well from a piece of junk nearby, and a small smile appears on his face when you suggest killing Munkustrap.

"Why d'you want to kill him, though?" the small tux asks.

"I don't know," you shrug. "I'm just bored, and he's right there in easy reach."

"I've got the perfect idea," Mistoffelees says.

"What?" you ask, interested in anything that means you don't have to think. After all, you don't read or star in parody fics because you want to think. No, you star in them because you're evil, you're sadistic, you want to murder the Jellicles (if not, why on Earth did you click on the title? After all, this story is called 'So, You Want to Murder the Jellicles', is it not?) or you're just too lazy to be bothered thinking up anything that even vaguely resembles a plotline for this chapter (have you been spending too much time around Author again?).

"Well, you remember that spell I did in The Mop's Revenge?" Mistoffelees says.

"Err… I've not read that one…" you admit.

"But I'm one of the stars! How could you not read something where I'm one of the stars?"

"I said when I killed you the first time – you're annoying."

"But I tortured Munku and Tugger! Sort of…"

"I repeat – you're annoying. And they probably think so too, after that little episode."

"It wasn't an episode. It was a oneshot."

"Whatever. So anyway, what were you planning on doing to him?" you ask.

"You'll find out if you give me permission to do it," Mistoffelees says smugly.

"I'm not giving you permission until I know what you're going to do."

"And I'm not doing it until I've got permission."

"Why not?"

"Munkustrap might hurt me."

"What? No he won't!"

"He will if he finds out it was me, and if I've got your permission to do it, I can shift the blame on to you."

"Hey! And exactly how is he going to find out it was you?"

"You really don't want to know," Author's voice says from in front of the big computer in the sky.

"I see you've not taken up any form of exercise yet," you remark.

"And just how can you 'see' that?" Author asks, making thunder clouds roll across the sky. "You might want to phrase your reply _very carefully_..."

"Err… Because you're still sitting in front of the computer?"

"And how do you know that I didn't take a break from typing this, go out for a run or something, then carry on from where I left off?"

"Err… I… It… We-"

"Excuse me, but _we_!" Mistoffelees cuts in. "You're the one that's digging yourself a hole here, not me. I'd appreciate it if you kept me out of this."

"Oh, shut up," you say, giving Mistoffelees' arm a silly little girly slap that wouldn't even make jelly wobble (you know the kind: they come with a free squeak from whoever did it).

You are shocked when Mistoffelees gives you a girly slap back (complete with the 'ee!'). So shocked, in fact, that you hit him again to see if he repeats the action (and sound effect). He does, and one of those really silly girly fights follow, with lots of squealing and fur-pulling from both of you, neither of you ever thinking of doing something that would give you the advantage. You don't even notice Author descending from her perch high up on the computer chair, you're that engrossed with calling Mistoffelees a 'little mummy's queen'.

"Alright, kittens, break it up," Author yells. You ignore her, and she sighs. A keyboard suddenly appears in front of her and she starts typing furiously. Before long, you and Mistoffelees are thrown apart in different directions, both of you landing on your… tails… and skidding across the really well polished dance floor that looks nothing like the ground of a real junkyard.

"Wow," Tumblebrutus says, sounding both surprised and impressed. "You managed to get Author away from the monitor. You must have really pi-"

"TUMBLE! THIS IS A K+ FIC!" Author yells at him.

"Uhh… _piddled_… her off."

"Didn't I kill you a couple of chapters ago?" you ask Tumble.

"Yeah, but Author wanted me to make a cameo from beyond the grave, so here I am."

"Oh. By the way, this is the second time we've had Author down here," you say, standing up and getting ready to leave the junkyard.

"WAIT ONE MUSICAL MINUTE!" Munkustrap yells from the tyre.

"Just one, please – we're kind of in a rush," you tell him.

"You've been killing Jellicles!"

"Yep. Misto helped with one of the last ones."

"Who was it?" Tumble asks interestedly.

"Jemima," Mistoffelees says.

"You've _both_ been killing Jellicles?" Munkustrap asks.

"Yes," you tell him, speaking very slowly. "That's what we've been doing for the past few chapters, while you were conveniently absent from the junkyard."

"What _you've_ been doing for the past few chapters," Mistoffelees corrects. "I only came back from the dead a couple of chapters ago to help kill Jemima. For all intents and purposes, after that I died again."

"Oh, cool!" you exclaim.

"MUDERERS!" Munkustrap yells.

(There are actually other cats in the clearing that weren't murdered last chapter (how they managed that, you really don't know), but they've chosen to remain silent in the vague hope that they won't be noticed and will escape from this fic un-killed. Little do they know, this fic is nowhere near completion…)

"I hereby banish you two from the Jellicle junkyard!" Munkustrap yells (again. Does a lot of shouting this one, doesn't he?) "Never set paw in here again!"

"Over-reacting a bit, aren't you?" you say.

"Over-reacting! Over-reacting! I'll give you over-reacting, you little fu-"

"MUNKUSTRAP! THE RATING!" everyone shouts at him.

"-Furball! You little furball," he says quickly. "You two going around killing Jellicles at random moments whenever you feel like it gives me a reason to over-react just a tiny bit, don't you think!"

"Munkustrap-" Author starts.

"Not now! Theses two-"

"Munkustrap-"

"-NEED TO BE TAUGHT A LESSON-"

"Munkustrap-"

"-SO WE SHOULD-"

"MUNKUSTRAP!"

"WHAT?"

"SHUT UP!"

"WHY?"

"I'M TIRED OF WRITING IN CAPITALS!"

Munkustrap shuts up, and everyone (including you) gingerly takes their paws away from where they were protecting their ears (or eyes. Whatever).

"Can I just point out that we weren't killing them at random moments?" you ask politely.

"Huh?" Munkustrap asks, completely wrong-footed. Or wrong-pawed… Or something…

"You're the only one that was random. You were supposed to die after Jemima, but Author didn't finish the chapter in time so we had to kill Tugger and the rest of the tribe instead so that the updates could vaguely resemble being quite often."

"I wondered where they'd gone off to," Munkustrap says thoughtfully to himself. He pauses for a second, then the expression on his face completely changes. He now looks rather scared… "Hang on," he says slowly.

"Hang on to what?" Mistoffelees smirks. "Our tails?"

"If Tugger and the others had to go before me, and they've been missing for the past few days," Munkustrap starts, ignoring Mistoffelees' comment. "Then that must mean that-"

"The pipe is going to cave in on the next full moon in the month of December when Pluto and Jupiter collide with a lot of purple swearing," Mistoffelees says with a dead straight face. Everyone in the clearing stares at him.

"Purple swearing?" you ask. Mistoffelees nods solemnly.

"It's not nice. You really don't want to come across any purple swearing."

"Why? What's so bad about purple swearing?"

"It's green."

"…"

"…"

"Wait a minute. Exactly why are we talking about purple swearing that's actually green when less than thirty seconds ago we were talking about killing Munku?" you ask.

"I just felt like changing the subject," Mistoffelees shrugs.

"Well, you succeeded. Where'd Author go, anyway?"

"She disappeared after Misto turned into a smart-ass," Rumpus Cat tells you.

"Aren't you just a character in a play the Jellicles put on for Old D?" you ask him.

"And the Jellicles are just characters in a play that some rich guy came up with after reading a book of poems that some dead guy wrote. Technically, we're the same, and in the poem I'm _not_ just a character in a play. Unlike Jemima and Victoria, who were just made up off the top of someone's head a few weeks before opening night."

"Hey!" Jemima and Victoria yell.

"What?" Rumpus Cat asks. "It's true!"

"Prove it."

"You're not mentioned in any of the poems."

"That's just a technicality," Victoria sniffs.

"Moving swiftly on," you say loudly to try and dispel the argument you just knew was coming. "Misto, I believe you were about to show off again?"

"I do not '_show off_', I perform," Mistoffelees grumbles.

"Just kill him," you sigh.

Mistoffelees begins to wave his paws about in the air, but he sees the look you give him and settles instead for just holding them out in front of him and doing whatever he does with minimal effort.

"Why can't I have any special effects?" he asks you after he's finished.

"Because Author's budget won't stretch that far," you tell him. "Anyway, what did you do?"

"Follow me."

"Oh, and will a couple of you keep Munku still for me? We don't want him escaping, now, do we?" you say with an evil grin. You're remarkably good at evil grins, so, naturally, Macavity sees something of himself in you and offers to help out. You are wise to the different versions of Fanfic!Mac, and so obviously don't trust him with guarding Munkustrap. "Anybody _except_ the crazed psycho with hair-care issues, if you wouldn't mind."

Macavity grudgingly hands Munkustrap over to the remaining Jellicles, and Munkustrap breathes a sigh of relief – whatever Mistoffelees has got planned, it can't ever be as bad as what Macavity could have done to him… You watch the cats force Munkustrap onto the ground, before one-by-one sitting down on him and making themselves comfortable with cups of warm milk and some of Jennyanydots' mouse cakes.

"Don't let him suffocate," you warn the Jellicles. "We want him to still have a pulse when we get back."

You follow Mistoffelees out of the clearing and down an alleyway of junk. He's been trotting merrily along with a kitten's enthusiasm, while you've been trying to work out where he gets his energy from. He stops suddenly, and you walk right into him. As you stand up again, you look up and see three mops standing to attention in front of you.

You give Mistoffelees a questioning look, and he replies with a very smug smirk before turning to face the mops.

"You all remember your cousin, Moppy the Third?" he says. You find you have to stuff your paw in your mouth to keep from laughing at the name. "Do you know what happened to it?"

The mops (surprisingly) don't react to the question. Mistoffelees sighs heavily.

"Well, he died after being tortured by Munkustrap. You should go and get revenge. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I've got one," you say. Mistoffelees puts his head in his paws for a moment before turning to you. "What're these mops called?"

Mistoffelees is about to answer, when you cut him off.

"Wait, wait, let me guess – Moppy the First, Moppy the Second, and Moppy the Fourth."

"How'd you know that?"

"You mean those are their actual names? Not very original, are they?"

The mops turn to face you, and Mistoffelees hastily cuts in.

"You mean _their names are easier to remember than ours_, don't you?" he says, giving you a meaningful look.

"Apparently."

Without further ado (or plotline) you head back to the clearing, the mops marching on their strings behind you. A few of the other cats see you coming, get off of Munkustrap, and run as fast as they can to the opposite side of the clearing. Demeter stays next to Munkustrap, grabs his tail, and single paw-edly hold him in place.

"Aww, come on, Demi," he whines. "What'd I ever do to you?"

"It's more of what you _didn't_ do, than what you did," she replies. "All those times there was a Macavity scare, all those times I grabbed onto you in places most queens don't even think you've got, and _you didn't do anything_. You're just too noble, you have to go."

"And here I was thinking that you were catnapped by him when you were younger and wanted me to protect you," Munkustrap says dryly.

"_Ahem_," you say loudly to get everyone's attention. Munkustrap turns to face you, and finally notices the mops (took him long enough…)

"Not again," he sighs.

Mistoffelees smirks at him and pokes his tongue out to make sure Munkustrap knows that it was his idea, but that you commissioned his death so he can't do anything to the little magician.

"Company, MOP!" Mistoffelees yells.

The mops charge forwards, and Munkustrap tries to run. However, since Demeter is still holding onto his tail, he doesn't get very far and instead ends up wearing the ground away so much that he digs himself a small hole. The mops descend on the hole, and you hear Munkustrap squeak as they attack him.

You find a spot where you can see, and watch as the mops… y'know… mop him… It provides some light entertainment for you, mainly because the squeals Munkustrap emits are so high-pitched they'd be more suited to Jemima. The mops mop him, until he is no more. Literally. The only thing left is a twitching tail, which Demeter is holding. She looks at it, shrugs, then throws it to the mops and walks off.

The mops finish with Munkustrap, and Mistoffelees runs up to them.

"Would you please stop moving?" he asks them.

"What good will that do?" you ask.

The mops all suddenly collapsing shuts you right up, and you smack Mistoffelees upside the head.

"Ow," he whines. "What was that for?"

"I felt like it."

"Yeah well, where you're involved, that explains a lot of things."

"Such as?"

"Uh… I never told you my cousins were coming over about now, did I? I've got to go meet them. Bye!"

You watch the little tom run off as fast as he can, and start plotting who to kill next.

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Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, I really appreciate it, but I'm going to have to abandon this story for the time being. I'll update if I get the chance, but I'm taking three of my GCSEs a year early so I'm knee-deep in revision, and any spare time I do have is probably going to be spent writing down plot ideas for other stories so I don't forget them. I might (it's a big might, though, so don't get any hopes up) have some time in about two weeks to write, but if not it'll be about a month before I update. I really don't want to stop writing this 'cause it's really fun, but I'm going for the highest grades I can get so I have to spend time revising or I won't get them. I swear this death fic hasn't died, it'll be back in a month or so. Until then, I'm going to be really busy doing practise papers and the like, so please, _please_ don't bug me for an update because I'll most likely be really stressed and I'll probably end up snapping at you, which is another thing I don't want to do.

Wish me luck...


	8. Misto 2

YAY! Exams are over (finally!) so I can get back to killing the cats (she says with an evil grin). True to form, I feel like being mean to Misto again...

Disclaimer - Lessee... Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber, TS Elliot, George Lucas, or Shakespeare?

Anyone who can get the joke about the gaze gets a cookie (hint - it's at the start of the third paragraph. You should find it now...)

Oh, and _beware of the bad Shakespeare..._

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**How To Kill Magical Mr. Mistoffelees (again)**

You return from your very long break (away fora month! Exactly _what_ were you doing!) with a very strong urge to kill someone. You look around the yard while you choose your next victim, and notice that everyone is standing completely still and silent, staring at you with looks of complete and utter terror on their furry faces.

Feeling evil, you smile at a few and give them a wave. They promptly pass out with fright.

You gaze lands on the one cat that is looking everywhere but at you. Several of the other cats are feeling charitable and help him back up so you don't have to. They also hope that you won't kill them any time soon, but you already know that's never going to happen. You make your way over to the cat with an expression on you face that says, quite plainly: 'hello, Victim. Ready to die today?'

The small tuxedoed tom sparkles slightly out of fear, but after shooting a peeved look in Author's general direction he stops. As you approach, a more-than-slightly manic grin appears on you face, and the rest of the tribe give a collective sigh of relief as they (finally) realise that they aren't this chapter's Victim. They go about their usual business of sunning themselves on the boot of the old Ford (in Demeter's case), eating (in Bustopher's case), or getting up to things that won't be mentioned here because they aren't meant to be described where they can quite easily be read by kittens (in Bombalurina and Tugger's case).

"Let me guess," Mistoffelees sighs as you reach him. "You're going to kill me again, aren't you? And could it be because I've done something to annoy you?"

"I see Tugger was telling the truth when he said you were clever," you reply brightly, only too happy to be back where you belong – murdering the Jellicles for no apparent reason.

"You mean you didn't notice before? Heaviside, I need to try harder in future…"

"Please don't; you're trying enough as it is."

"Oh, very funny," Mistoffelees says sarcastically. "So how're you going to kill me _this_ time? It can't be worse than the first chapter."

"And what would you know about what happened in the first chapter? You were asleep for most of it."

"_Some_ of it. I woke up after you so rudely nailed me to the tyre. Tell me, did your mother _ever_ teach you _any_ manners at all? It really isn't polite to wake someone up, especially by crucifying them on a flying tyre."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

With Mistoffelees now quiet, you begin planning how you'll kill him.

Five days later and you're still trying to think up an idea.

Another week later and Mistoffelees interrupts your train of thought.

"Will I still get to say my death-line?" he asks. "'Cause I'm not dying without it."

"Fine, whatever," you say, irritated that he made you forget where abouts in your plan to murder him you were. Just as you're starting to remember…

"How're you going to kill me? You never answered me before."

"Well, right this second I'm seriously considering throwing you off a junk pile."

"Why don't you, then? If it's all the same to you, I'd rather get this over and done with because standing here for twelve days straight with no food or water really isn't making me feel my best."

With an evil smile so evil that it could evilly scare Macavity's evilest evil smile, you evilly lead Mistoffelees up to the top of the evil junk pile where your true evilness will be evilly revealed.

You start to think that maybe Author might have a bit of a thing for evil, but you really can't be sure…

Once you get to the top, you turn to Mistoffelees.

"Go on, then," you say. "If you really _have_ to say that death-line, now's the time to do it."

"Okay," he replies. "Just give me a minute."

"What, you need to prepare for a death-line?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Saying a death-line is a deep spiritual experience, and not to be scoffed at."

You catch his eye and both of you burst out laughing.

"What a load of boll- err… _bullocks_…" you say, eyeing the storm clouds that suddenly appear above you warily in case Author decides to smote you down with lightning for the fun of it. "Well, let's get this over and done with, then. Misto, if you will…"

"Ahem," he says. "Reader! I am your father!"

"You what?" you ask. Mistoffelees sighs.

"I said: Reader! I am your father!"

"How come?" you ask. "I'm Author requests that you enter your own age here as she doesn't want a bunch of angry murderers after her fur for giving you an age that might give you reason to go after her fur years old, and you're all of, what, three weeks?"

"Three _years_, actually. There's a difference."

"Could've fooled me," you mutter.

"Okay, fine, I'll change it."

"Heaviside help me…"

"Ahem. Reader! I am your brother!" Mistoffelees yells, before 'accidentally' losing his footing (pawing?) on the junk and falling off the pile.

"Oh deary me," you say sarcastically. "Mine own brother hath died and left-eth me all alone-eth in this cruel world. However shall I survive-eth without him whilst I am continually surrounded-eth by furry busybodies with not a thing-eth better to do than watch-eth me cruelly murder-eth some poor feline who just happened to piss-eth me off…eth."

"Are you quite done now?" Mistoffelees asks as he peers over the top of the junk at you. He's hovering in midair while he waits for you to stop talking so that he can die. "Y'know, Author isn't going to be best pleased with you for that…"

"How come-eth she lets thy talk normally, whist I am stuck practising her bad Shakespearean?"

"Ah dunno," Mistoffelees shrugs. "But can we do that death-line again; I don't think we really caught the atmosphere of the scene last time…"

"Fine. Whatever-eth."

"Ahem-"

"Dost thou _have_ to do that every single time-eth?"

"Well, yeah. Us actors have to be properly prepared for big, dramatic death scenes."

"Since when didst thou become an actor?"

"Aren't you forgetting an "eth" there, somewhere?"

"...Eth."

"That's better. And to answer your question, since people started putting me in all these stories. I mean, some of them seem to think that I'm in love with Tugger and on the verge of committing suicide because he doesn't love me back, or something along those lines. Now, if that doesn't take some preparation, I don't know what does."

"Thou dost have a very good-eth point there…" you admit. You decide to take pity on him. "Dost thou want to try-eth the death-line again?"

"Yup," he nods, levitating himself back up onto the junk. "Ahem. Reader! I am your brother!"

He falls again, and all you manage is a weak "Whoops…"

"Come on," he sighs, again back on top of the junk.

"I think the moment might be lost…"

"Speaking of lost, where's the bad Shakespeare gone?"

"…Eth."

"Spoke too soon…" Mistoffelees mutters. "Ah well. Once more, with feeling! _Reader! I am your brother!_"

"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"That's the spirit!" Mistoffelees calls over you as he falls. Again.

"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Okay, you can stop now."

"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Heaviside, don't you have to breathe!"

"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Haven't you seen the movies? I can't hit the ground till you stop yelling! Shut up!"

"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"This is gonna take a while," he sighs, twisting around so that he's comfortable and pulling the latest issue of '_Magicians Weekly_' out of Heaviside knows where.

-Three hours later-

"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

Mistoffelees starts to get tired of all the falling and pulls a megaphone out from the same place he had '_Magicians Weekly_' hidden.

"STOP YELLING ALREADY!" his voice blasts across the junkyard. "I THINK EVERYONE WITHIN A HUNDRED MILES HAS HEARD BY NOW, SO _SHUT UP!_"

You look over the edge of the pile and see that the distance from the top of the pile to the ground has increased so much that you can barely see the free-falling tux.

And since you've finally stopped the public display of your incredible lung control, the ground comes up to meet Mistoffelees and introduce him to his maker. It also returns to its original distance from the junk pile, and you glance over the edge at the ground.

You never knew that such a small cat could have that much inside of him…

"Okay, Munkustrap's defiantly gonna notice _that_ when he gets resurrected," you say to yourself, suddenly without the bad Shakespeare.

As you try to work out a way to clean Mistoffelees up (housework never has been your strong point), movement catches your eye. The mice that Jennyanydots trains come wandering into view, all of them carrying the mini-mops that were hidden in the junkyard after _that incident_. They clean him up in no time, leaving the junk as dirty as it was before.

You toss an old bit of cheese down to them and climb down the other side, curious as to who is available to kill next.

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I will still be updating this, but not as often as before because I don't think they're as good when they're written quickly (she says at the end of a chapter that took 1 & 1/2 hours...) so basically you're going to have to wait until I feel like writing more of this for an update. It's not for lack of ideas (trust me, I'm very inventive when it come to killing stuff...), it's'cause I've got about five stories on the go right now that I'm trying to get finished completely before I put them up here, plus a story for Englsh that I'm completely re-writing.

That, and they're all kinda depressing and they have a slight tendancy to sap the humour right out of you...


End file.
